Lovely Letter #5: Slug Meat and Marshmallows

...from husband to wife and back again.

Dear Shayedybug,

The words of your last letter were sharper than a two-edged sword, penetrating my soul and spirit, my joints and marrow, exposing me to really be a bimbo who has watched too much Seinfeld. You warned me the schmoopie reference was a bit much but I couldn’t resist.

You told me I may need to give you a response with a little less weight to it this time and I agree. I wanna strike that balance between the right amount of self-depreciation, humor and gravity. So let’s talk about comedy.

I think it can be good not to take yourself too seriously, lest you become an insufferable know-it-all. Humor is a good way to accomplish this. As I look back on your 14 years or so of blogging and storytelling through The Elliott Homestead, I think you are a pretty good example of this. Being your husband means I have the duty of saying this but in this case I also get to say you are a very talented writer and creator.

But humor, like play, can be a serious business. We like watching stand-up comedy. A good laugh is cathartic. It’s the kind of thing that makes the uphill journey a bit more bearable. Have you noticed how good comedians actually tackle quite serious subjects? I think comedy can be similar to genres of art. Different artistic techniques represent their subject matter in unique ways, often allowing the viewer to see a subject in a new way. An impressionistic painting may draw attention to the way light dances and interacts with the colors of the sun reflecting on a garden pond. You find yourself looking at a scene in a different way or focusing on a particular detail you would otherwise gloss over. Good comedy can take a serious subject and reframe it for us, putting it in a different light, not so that we don’t take it seriously anymore, but so we can see what we may not have otherwise or see it freshly.

As you know I’m preparing for a unit on comedy this year for the rhetoric class I’m teaching so I’ve been thinking a bit about this. A few questions come to mind. What makes something genuinely funny and how can comedy be employed rhetorically in a positive way? As I am thinking about this a particular story comes to mind involving your homemade marshmallows. I happen to love your homemade marshmallows (they are great at “filling in the corners” as hobbits like to put it) and I have a great appreciation for your desire to make healthy alternatives of processed foods that may not have a good counterpart at the store. One of the challenges of living in community is that our kids come to learn that what seemed completely normal and ordinary for them isn’t so much for other kids.

So, I gathered throughout the year at our homeschool co-op that the Elliott kids developed a bit of a reputation from the homemade foods they would bring in their lunch. When Will pulled out his bag of homemade marshmallows you packed for him as a special treat, visible question marks appeared over the heads of his peers. Now there is nothing at all wrong with your homemade marshmallows. As I’ve said, I love them. But if one didn’t know in advance that they were in fact homemade marshmallows I think it is reasonable to assume they would have some legitimate questions. Your homemade marshmallows aren’t particularly white, and they aren’t quite the familiar cylindrical shape we have come to associate with that classic sweet, squishy treat. They are what we enduringly call “rustic”. So, of course, one of Will’s friends couldn’t resist and asked “What is that?” to which he replied without skipping a beat, “It’s slug meat. Wanna try some?”

I don’t think anything fully prepares you for the challenge of being a parent. I think any honest mom or dad would say the vocation of parenting is accompanied by insecurity and doubt. If you are a parent who cares, you tend to care about whether you’re doing a good job or not. And because you are so close to it, it’s hard to give yourself any reassurance that you’re doing alright. But, every once in a while, God in his grace, smiles upon you and lets you know it’s going ok. I can’t fully explain why but Will’s quick-witted and genuinely funny slug meat joke reassured this dad that he might be just fine and maybe we’re doing something right. I’ve been laughing about this ever since he told me. Every time I need a good chuckle I think about it. I hope it also brings a chortle to your portal.

To many more years of slug meat!

Love,

Studaddy

PS: Portal is the only thing I could think to rhyme with chortle that could mean something like mouth.

An audio recording of this love letter is read by me, Stuart, below and is available for paid subscribers. Thank you for supporting us in our endeavor to create content that inspires and encourages you. If you haven’t upgraded to a paid subscription, we would appreciate your consideration of supporting us in this way. Thank you!